


One Black Day in Ghostly White

by one_golden_sun



Series: Poly Gay Trio Modern AU [17]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Cliffhangers, Crying, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Engagement, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Hand Jobs, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Men Crying, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Shooting, Smut, Surgery, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-21 06:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14278485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/pseuds/one_golden_sun
Summary: Generally speaking, John saved his errands for Saturdays. However, this Saturday was out of the question. This Saturday was the reason for the errand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song "Violent Dreams" by Jump (Little Children) which I highly recommend you listen to at some point while reading this fic. 
> 
> Also, the pacing is kinda weird; I have a posting schedule. Expect at least one update daily for the next 10 days.
> 
> Huge shout out to @minky_for_short she is my rock when it came to this work

Generally speaking, John saved his errands for Saturdays. However, this Saturday was out of the question. This Saturday was the reason for the errand.

This Saturday, this nondescript Saturday in early spring, almost five years since he had met the both of them, John was proposing to his boyfriends, Alexander and Lafayette. And so far, everything was going exactly as planned. He’d booked a private table at the restaurant Alex had taken him for brunch to first introduce him to Laf. He’d spoken with the head chef, designed a personalized, ten-course tasting menu. Planned it to the last detail, each course reflecting a different memory or part of their relationship. Mini, savory apple pies. Delicately fried chicken over sauteed greens. Bruschetta with radishes and butter. Even a take on Alexander’s pozole. Each dish would evoke a memory, a milestone, a part of their lives together. 

And, at the penultimate course, right before dessert, he’d present them with a few pages he’d created, done in a graphic novel style. A retelling of their story. How lonely he’d been, how meeting them and loving them had changed his life so completely. And now, shown in the last panel, that very moment, that all important question:

_Alexander Hamilton? Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette? Will you marry me?_

But first, he had to get the rings. 

Technically, John had the rings. Had them custom ordered months ago, and they had been delivered two weeks previous. Perfect, solid bands, Alex’s in yellow gold, Laf’s in white. Engraved with personalized messages along the inner band. 

So here he was, on Friday, ready to run to the bank to go get the rings from his safety deposit box. It went downhill from there.

First thing to go wrong was Alexander was home. Unusual for a Friday, but he had some comp time built up and with all his deadlines met, he took a rare day off. John’s bank was right next to the bookshop Alex loved, so Alex invited himself along on the trip.

“It’s finally not ass out cold, I could use a walk!” Alex said brightly, and John had no clue how to shake him off without arousing suspicion. So they headed uptown, hand-in-hand, Alexander blathering on, John lost in his anxiety and thoughts, trying to think of a way to keep Alex from seeing the ring boxes. 

“Are you ok?” Alex finally asked when John stumbled over a curb, less than a block from the bank. 

“Yeah, honey, I’m fine,” John said quickly. “Why?”

“You haven’t said two words since we left the apartment, and you’re all...spacey.” 

“I’m fine,” John repeated, squeezed Alexander’s hand. They rounded the corner, stood outside the bank. John half-hoped Alex would take off for the bookshop, but no such luck. He followed him inside. 

“What do you even need to do here?” Alex asked. “It’s 2018, man. Can’t you do it all online?”

John shrugged, got into line to see a teller. “Need something from my safety deposit box,” he said. Alex snorted with laughter.

“God, rich people are so weird. You have a safety deposit box? Need to get some of your diamonds from the vault?”

John rolled his eyes right back. “Documents,” he said stiffly. Alex squinted. 

“Okay…”

Small stroke of luck, finally. When the banker took him back to the boxes, Alex didn’t make a move to follow. Instead, he made some snide remark about waiting with the “great unwashed” out in the lobby. John ignored his comment, went to his box. The rings were there, in their perfect, velvet boxes. He wrapped the boxes in the tissue paper he’d brought, set them gently in his backpack. Locked his box, placed his key in the tray, turned to leave. 

As he stepped back into the lobby, John knew instantly something was incredibly wrong. An eerie, tense silence had fallen over everyone in the room. Most people were still, as if time had frozen. Alex had left his spot from the couch, was against the wall right near the door to the safety deposit boxes. As John exited, Alex turned to look at him. Wide eyed. Shook his head silently “no,” lifted his hand to point at whatever silent, strange thing was happening that had cast a spell over the room. 

Well, that small movement was enough. John watched the scene unfold in slow motion.

A man in all black, head to toe, at the teller counter. 

He turned.

Gun in hand.

Drawn by Alex’s motion.

Pointed at Alex. 

John didn’t think, just dove for him, in front of him, blocking him. 

Loud pops of gunfire, three in quick succession.

Blinding pain in John’s side. The closest he could think of was being a kid, getting hit by a kickball, right in the chest. The wind knocked out of him. He fell to the floor. 

Everything was warm. Warm and wet. The lights above blindingly bright. Alexander, leaning over him, screaming his name. 

The world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Lafayette was having a fantastic day. Friday dawned bright and pleasant. He started his day with a quick run in the park, listening to the birds and the conversations and lovely sounds of the morning. Spring was finally coming, and the sun was shining. People were out, like waking from hibernation. His run was refreshing, and he jogged the rest of the way home, to grab his gym bag. John and Alexander were there, each gave him a quick kiss before he left again, this time to go to the gym. On his way there, he stopped at his favorite bakery for a hot chocolate and a pastry. Instead of eating on the go, he sat in the sunshine, enjoyed the cool morning air juxtaposed against the warm sun and his hot drink. Ended up Facetiming with Adrienne a bit, chatting about her upcoming wedding and her promotion at work. 

After his quick breakfast, on to the gym for his normal training session. Locked his phone in his locker with his bag, preferring to listen to his antiquated iPod shuffle when working out. 

An hour went by. He did what he needed to do, took his time, enjoyed his solitude. Music, reps, active recovery, rinse and repeat. Admired himself in the mirror. Knew he looked good, had even caught several people checking him out. Spent the bulk of his workout planning his outfit for the special date night John said he had planned for the next day. In his mind, nothing was really working, so he thought maybe after his workout, he’d go shopping. A special date was the perfect excuse for a special new outfit. 

Back at his locker he pulled out his bag. Wanted to finish listening to the Rolling Stone’s song, so waited until he was outside to check his phone.

Thirty eight missed calls, six voicemail messages, twenty two text messages. All from Alexander. He thumbed his phone past the lockscreen, went to call Alexander, but was receiving yet another call from him as he was dialing. He picked up immediately. 

“Mon chou, whatever--”

Alex cut him off. He was sobbing, speaking very fast, faster than Lafayette could process. “John--shot--hospital.”

“Mon chou, please slow down, I cannot understand--”

He took a breath and then practically shouted into the phone. “JOHN’S BEEN SHOT!” He bellowed. “WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK UP YOUR GODDAMN PHONE. WE’RE AT BELLEVUE. GET HERE NOW.”

There was no time for questions, for reproach. The line went dead. Lafayette shoved it in his bag. 

Turned and ran.

***

The emergency room at Bellevue was the picture of confusion. People everywhere in various states of injury and illness. Lafayette hated hospitals and doctors, all things medical gave him what John referred to as the “heebie jeebies.” But even now, his usual prickly anxiety couldn’t even shake him from his laser focus to find his boyfriends. 

It took a few moments, but Alexander was easy to fine. He spoke to a kind but tired triage nurse, who led him to a back hallway where Alex was pacing next an empty gurney. 

“Laf!” he practically shrieked. He ran into Lafayette’s arms, the backpack he wore shaking with every step. 

“Mr. Hamilton, you need to be resting,” the nurse said wearily. “Your wound was shallow but a bullet graze--”

“I’m fine!” he snapped, ignoring her, pulled back to look up at Laf. Laf examined him with his own eyes. Took in his pale complexion, his wide dark eyes, the bandage wrapped around his bicep. 

“You are not fine, my love!” Lafayette exclaimed. “You are covered in blood, you are shaking--” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he repeated, nodding erratically. “It’s not my blood, it’s John’s--”

Lafayette’s whole body went cold, as if he’d been plunged into a bath of ice. “Where is he?” he said crisply, fearing the very worst. 

“I don’t know!” Alex roared in frustration. “They won’t tell me, they took me here, we were in the ambulance, they rushed him off, I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything--”

As calm as he could, his heart hammering like a jack rabbit’s, Lafayette turned toward the nurse. “Where is the young man this patient arrived with?” 

The nurse checked her clipboard. “Surgery. Third floor.” She was clipped, said nothing else, as her pager started to go off and she left. Lafayette had a moment he felt he might scream, might lose it completely, but he had to be strong. He had to be their rock. 

“Perhaps we can get the alright for you to come with me, we will go up there and check on him and see--”

“Stop being stupid Lafayette!” Alex yelled. “Don’t just stand here! They won’t let me leave, I’m under observation because of this dumbass bullet graze, I keep telling you I’m fine, just go up there! He could die, Lafayette, he could die and I need you up there--” Alex interrupted himself, dissolved into tears. 

“Shhh,” Lafayette soothed him, for just a moment, let Alex collapse against him. If John was in surgery, as the nurse had said, a moment or so would not make a different. Alexander needed him. “Calm down, my love, it will be all ok,” though as the words left his mouth, Lafayette was not sure they were true. 

“You don’t know that,” Alex sobbed. “You didn’t see it, see him. He lost so much blood, it was everywhere…” 

Lafayette did not see what the correct response was. Just held Alexander and rocked him until his tears quieted. “I will go upstairs. I will wait for news. I will speak to the doctor. I will text you.” He pulled away to kiss Alexander, once on the forehead, once on the lips. 

“I love you,” Alex gasped. “I love you so much, I’m so scared.”

“Me too. I am very scared. I need you to stay here and rest, behave. They will disperse you when they see fit, you can come upstairs then. Yes?”

Alexander swallowed back another sob, nodded. “I’ll be good,” he promised. “And the word is discharge.”

They kissed once more, and Lafayette reluctantly left his side, found the elevator. Some of the blood on Alex’s clothes hadn’t quite dried, and now was smeared on his shirt. 

His own hands shaking, Lafayette pulled out his phone. Made a quick phone call on the elevator ride to the third floor. The doors opened with a ding. He went to find someone, anyone with information.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex hated not knowing information. Sitting in the emergency room, with absolutely zero idea of what was going on was the worst torture of his life. He shot off several text messages to Laf, stared at his phone, growing more frantic with every minute that passed. According to the read receipts, his texts were still unread. He clutched John’s bookbag to his chest. His brain was in overdrive, playing strange anxiety games with him.

_If that nurse walks by again in five minutes, John will be ok._

_If Laf read his text message before the nurse walked by again, John will wake up._

_If he sent an even number of unread text messages, John won’t die._

He hugged the bookbag tighter. Ignored the ache in his arm where the stitches felt tight. 

An hour passed. 

His phone buzzed. 

“Any updates?” Alex snapped, instantly feeling bad that he was short with Laf, but quickly forgetting when he heard how soft his boyfriend spoke. 

“He is still in the operation,” Lafayette said slowly, quietly. “There has been no news. I have been told if there is a change, when they are done, or if--” He stopped. Took a breath. Alexander was clutching his phone so hard he feared it might snap in half. “If anything else, they will notify me.”

There was a long beat of silence, the implications of what Laf hadn’t said hanging in the air. 

“Alexander. How are you feeling? Are you cleared to leave?”

“Dunno,” Alex said. “No one has checked on me in a while.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps you can be asking if you may come up here?” Lafayette sounded so small, so unsure, so unlike himself. “I need you here. With me. Just in...just in case.” 

An invisible fist clenched around Alex’s heart. “Here I come,” Alex said. “Tell me where to go.” Keeping Laf on the phone, he simply slipped out of the ER. Found the elevator. Listened to the sounds of his boyfriend’s quiet breathing, no words between them, until he needed directions. 

Found Laf perched on the edge of a waiting room chair, looking pale and diminished and so unlike himself it scared Alex. 

Alex hung up his phone. Slipped it in his pocket. Lafayette looked up at him, his cheeks streaked with tears. There was nothing said between them.

He sat down next to Lafayette. Took his hand. 

They waited.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Note: VERY BRIEF mention of past relationship abuse

The next few hours were some of the longest, some of the worst of Lafayette’s life. He had been through a lot in his short life. Losing his parents as a young child. The prolonged illness and consequent death of his beloved grandmother. The gut-wrenching anxiety of his first relationship with his abusive ex boyfriend. In this moment, however, they paled in comparison to sitting in this cold blue waiting room, the brightest lights from the muted TV on the wall and the vending machine corner.

Alexander next to him, squeezing his hand tightly. Staring at a spot in the floor. Lafayette thought perhaps to ask him more about what actually transpired that day, how their beloved boyfriend was now in an operating room instead of safe and home with them. But he could not find a way to make his mouth form the words.

He had never seen Alexander so still and quiet. He had not even checked his phone since joining him in the waiting room, had not said a word. They sat in long, empty, painful silence. Lafayette feared if either of them spoke a word aloud, whether in hope or fear, the very worst would come true, and that would be the end. 

Two hours. Three hours. Endless silent parade of strangers. Their faces as they weathered their own stories. Relief. Pain. Shock. Sorrow. 

During hour four, someone said his name. 

“Lafayette?” Laf looked up, hoping to see a doctor or nurse with news. 

Like a live wire, Alex jolted next to him, practically leapt out of his seat. “What’s _he_ doing here?” he hissed. 

Lafayette stood to shake Henry Laurens’ hand, was shocked the man pulled him into a hug. It was stiff and strange, but it was there. Almost immediately, as if he was shocked he had even done it, he stepped back and smoothed his suit. At first glance, Henry appeared unrumpled, but Lafayette caught the weariness in his eyes, deep wrinkle of worry in his forehead, how pale he looked. 

“I called him, my love,” Laf said softly, trying to stay calm. 

“But why?” 

“He is my son, Alexander,” Henry began, a frantic tone edging into his voice. “He was _shot_ , of course I am going to be here. Have you spoken to the doctor?”

“Of course we have,” Alex snapped, folded his arms defensively. “They had no news, would update as soon as they could.”

“Well perhaps there has been a change,” Henry said, moved as if to go find someone to speak to. Alex’s eyes narrowed. 

“Go find someone then, if you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but maybe they can only share sensitive information with family members and so on.” 

“Whatever Henry,” Alex said waspishly. The blood had gone from his face and he was shaking. “Your money, your _influence_ , nothing you say is gonna save him from a fucking bullet, no matter how much you try to throw your weight around.” 

“I do not see how speaking to the doctor is an affront to you, Alexander…”

“Not an affront, but maybe a goddamn photo opp!” His volume had gone up, people in the room were watching them as the tension grew. 

“How dare you suggest--”

“Please, Alexander, Henry. Please,” Lafayette cut in, pleading. He squeezed Alex’s hand, leveled his gaze at Henry. “We are all here for one reason. We all want John to be just fine, yes? Will fighting with each other help this? Help him?” 

There was a long stretch of silence. Both Henry and Alex looked like they had more to say, but Henry just turned away, went to find someone to speak to. Alex wrenched his hand from Laf’s grip, folded himself back into his chair, muttering darkly to himself. 

“Mon chou, you must understand.” Lafayette sat back down next to him, touched his shoulder. Was shocked when Alex shrugged his hand off of him, but hid it. “Henry is John’s father, he has a right to be here, with his son.”

“I know,” Alex said flatly. Stared at nothing, refused to look at Lafayette. “Seeing him here. Makes it more real.” He took in a shaky breath. “John could die.”

Lafayette could not think of the right words. He only wanted to touch Alex, hold him close, perhaps be held himself. Instead, he sat ramrod straight, looked at his own hands. Alex’s words hung in air. 

“They are still operating.” Henry had returned. Took a seat stiffly on the other side of Lafayette, refused to really look at either of them. He cleared his throat. “What...what happened?” Laf waited for Alex to answer; after all, he was the one who had been with John, knew the actual story. But when the reply did not come, he looked to Alexander. Saw him holding his mouth tightly shut, eyes wide, tears streaming down his face. He shook his head. Speechless.

It was Lafayette who had to fill in the blanks. “I do not know the whole story, and Alexander will tell us more when he is ready. They were at the bank. There was a shoot up. John was hit.” 

“That’s all you know?” Henry said incredulously.

Lafayette nodded. Alex added nothing, just cried silently. Henry looked up and stared emptily at the television. 

The three men waited in silence. 

***

Another hour. Not much changed. Lafayette offered to go get food, coffee, anything. He felt ill at ease, not taking care of Alexander. But Alex just shook his head. Henry told him not to leave, just in case. 

A tired looking resident in scrubs and a white coat approached them. “Mr. du Motier?” Lafayette looked up. “May I speak with you? Privately?”


	5. Chapter 5

Alexander watched in frozen horror as the doctor stepped off to the side with Lafayette. The conversation was short, one-sided, clipped. The blood in Alexander’s veins felt like ice. Lafayette was saying nothing, was nodding and looking at the doctor, and even from six feet away Alex noted Lafayette’s hands shaking.

“Excuse me,” Henry said, got up to join them. Alex hesitated a beat, wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the news from Lafayette or the doctor, then decided he couldn’t take it any longer. Bolted up out of his seat, was at Lafayette’s side in an instant. 

Laf crumpled in on himself, was taking deep shaky breaths, his shoulders quaking. He was crying. 

“No,” Alex whispered. “NO!”

The doctor looked puzzled. “What happened?” Henry demanded. 

Lafayette drew himself back up and looked at Alexander. His face was shining with tears but he was smiling, his whole body shaking as he pulled Alex into a hug. 

“This doctor...he says--” But he couldn’t finish, he was overcome with sobs.

“Your friend, John Laurens--” The doctor began.

“My son,” Henry interjected. 

“Yes, your son. He’s out of surgery, being transferred to the ICU. While he lost a lot of blood, and the trauma from the bullet was significant, it missed all of his major organs. Barring any serious complications or infections, he will be just fine.”

In that instant, it was like the room around them changed color. Lafayette was still clinging to him, clinging and weeping, and Henry’s face broke into a smile, and he was asking some follow up questions Alex didn’t bother to listen to. The room went from gray to bright lavender. Around him, everyone else suddenly seemed hopeful and optimistic, not resigned and full of sorrow. Even the nurse behind the intake desk looked cheerful to him. 

John was gonna be just fine. 

Just fine. 

Alex breathed the loudest sigh of relief, hugged Lafayette back as tight as he could. He was babbling through his tears, garbled French that Alex couldn’t quite decipher, but it didn’t matter. 

John was gonna be just. Fine.

“When can we see him?” Alex asked. Knew that even with the fog lifted, he wouldn’t truly believe it until John was in front of him, until he could touch him. 

“Few hours,” the doctor said, checking his beeper absentmindedly. “When he comes out of the anesthesia. He’ll need to be under observation in the ICU for a few days, then down to general recovery until we’re out of the woods.” He looked back to the three of them, and Alex knew they made a strange trio. Henry in his pressed suit and his good Southern manners slipping. Lafayette, the tallest of the three, slumped over in his arms and crying incoherently. And Alex himself, pale as a ghost, serious and disheveled and covered in drying blood, bandaged arm. “Look, if I were you, I’d take a bit of a break. He’s gonna need some time to come out. I’m sure you guys have had a...long day. Go get something to eat, some coffee. Maybe change clothes?” He looked at Alexander pointedly. “ICU is on the fourth floor; you can find him there in a bit.”

And with that, he left them.

“Do either of you boys wanna grab a bite?” Henry said, trying to be friendly but sounding mostly exhausted. “I also need to go see about finding a hotel in the area.”

“I am not hungry,” Lafayette said through his tears, and Alex also shook his head. 

“Well, the doctor did say a couple hours.” Henry looked so uncomfortable, as if witnessing the outpouring of Lafayette’s emotions was just too much. “I will be back. If you need me, please, call me.” He reached forward and squeezed Laf’s shoulder awkwardly, then turned to leave. Alex was happy to see the back of him, for now.

Lafayette continued to cry, but managed to get his breath under control. When he spoke next, his voice was steady. 

“My love, you should go change. You are covered in blood.” 

Alex scoffed. “If you think I am leaving this hospital before I see John wake up you are out of your fucking mind.”

“No, I feel this, the same. I do not even want to go to the cafe.” He shuddered. “We must be here when he wakes up. What if he is scared or sad?” His voice cracked. “We must be here.” 

“Look, I’ll text Herc; he’s got a key to our place. He can bring me some clothes.” As he spoke, he pulled out his phone, tapped out a text to Hercules. 

“Tell him to bring John’s Pokey as well. He will be needing him.” 

Something Alex loved and appreciated about Hercules was just the kind of friend he was. No questions asked.

**Ham:** I need a favor.

**Hercules:** What’s up?

**Ham:** At Bellevue. Everything is ok. I need clean clothes. Bring Pokey as well. Thx.

**Hercules:** Fam, I got you

“You wanna head upstairs to the ICU?” Alex asked, taking Lafayette’s hand. He felt like he’d run a marathon.

Laf nodded, swiped under his eyes. “Yes, I am. I suppose I look an absolute mess?”

“Yeah kinda,” Alex joked, face breaking into a smile. He suddenly felt giddy. “John’s gonna take one look at that face when he wakes up and demand a higher morphine dosage. Should I ask Herc to bring your makeup bag, your contour kit?”

“Oh hush,” but Laf was smiling as well. “Will you be telling me what happened now? At the bank?”

“That’s actually what we’re wondering as well,” a new voice said. Lafayette and Alex turned. “I’m detective Levy, this is detective Brownson, and we need to take your statement.”


	6. Chapter 6

The two detectives were in regular clothes. Detective Levy was a boring, forgettable middle-aged white gentleman. Detective Brownson was quite pretty, with high cheekbones, dark brown skin, upturned eyes, her hair in twists tied back. She smiled at both of them. They ended up using an empty office for the interview. Since Alex was a victim and not a suspect, Lafayette was allowed to sit in for emotional support. 

Detective Brownson smiled at them again, setting them at ease. They both opened notebooks, and Levy set out a tape recorder. 

“Mr. Hamilton, can you describe, in your own words, what happened this morning, March 30th, 2018 at Manhattan Bank?”

Alex cleared his throat. Lafayette listened in rapt attention. “I was there with my boyfriend John Laurens. He had to visit his safety deposit box…”

“Do you know what he was getting?” Brownson asked.

“He said documents. I waited in the lobby. During that time, a man in all black entered. He got in the teller line. He went up the teller. They appeared to know each other. They exchanged some words. I couldn’t hear what they were saying at first, but then he started talking a bit louder. It sounded like they were having a fight, like boyfriend and girlfriend. He accused her of sleeping with someone else. She remained calm, but then he pulled out the gun…” Alex paused, took in a deep breath. “They kept arguing. By then, John came back into the lobby. I caught his attention, went to point at the gunman, to try and show him not to make sudden movements. It clearly wasn’t a robbery, and the gunman seemed unpredictable.”

Another fortifying breath. 

“Take your time, Mr. Hamilton,” said Levy. 

“Do you need anything? Water? Coffee?” asked Brownson. 

“No, I’m ok.” He looked to Lafayette, who offered him a fortifying smile. “When I gestured, I guess the gunman saw me; he turned to me, pointed the gun at me, I froze. John...John jumped in front of me, right as the gunman fired. Three shots. One got me in the arm. John was hit, looked like his stomach. He doubled over, fell to the floor. He was bleeding, and people were screaming when they heard the gunfire. There were more shots, but after John got hit, I was paying attention to him. I was pushing on his side where he was bleeding. I stayed with him until the paramedics and the cops got there.”

“Can you describe the gunman?” 

Alex blinked, thought for a second. “Umm. He looked to be 5’10”. White. Wearing black jeans, a black shirt. Had on a baseball cap; underneath his hair was short brown. Kind of stocky build. Did he get away?”

Neither detective answered him. 

“Ok, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. du Mortier. Thank you for your time. We’ll be back to interview John when he’s coherent.”

“Detectives, is the gentleman who did this still out there? Is Alexander in any danger?” Lafayette probed.

Levy just squinted at him, but Brownson answered. “As far as we can tell, this was a domestic dispute that took a very violent turn. We are looking for him, but the only person who was in immediate danger was the teller.”

“Was?” Alex snapped.

“Yes. She was not as lucky as your friend. She died en route to the hospital.” 

Alex nodded curtly, but the news shook Lafayette. It could have easily been John. 

“Anyway, we will be in touch.” Brownson slid each of them her business card. “Feel free to reach out if you remember anything, need anything at all.” 

With the detectives gone, they sat together, Alex looking like he needed to say something. 

“I can hear your brain, mon chou,” Lafayette said slowly. “Do not blame yourself. John’s injury is not your fault.”

Alex huffed a short, sad laugh. “Mind reader,” he said simply. 

“You make it so easy. Plus, Alexander, I know you.” He squeezed his hand. “John did a very brave thing.” Felt the tears well up in his eyes, could not continue. 

“Sweetheart, it’s ok,” Alex said, seeing the emotions flit over Laf’s face. The sight pulled him from his own toxic thoughts. Strange how they kept bouncing between comforting the other. He stroked Laf’s cheek, pulled him in for one-armed hug. 

“I know. But when I think of...how close I was...to losing both of my loves...today…” For what felt like the tenth time that day, Lafayette broke down. Alex held him, thankful for the privacy of the office. His own tears fell silently, dripping into Laf’s hair, from where he lay with his head against Alex’s chest.


	7. Chapter 7

_Quiet beeping of a machine. Bright, bright lights. White. Nothing felt real. Everything was quiet and too loud all at once. Couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He thought he was alone. A voice asked him a question. He turned to look, but there were too many tubes and wires. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He mumbled a few words. The names of those he wanted._

_He closed his eyes._

***

“Good news,” the doctor said. A different resident. A middle-aged woman, cheerful eyes, long ponytail. Eyeliner surprisingly perfect. 

They had been waiting for a while now, the mood considerably warmer with Henry gone and the appearance of Hercules, with fresh clothes for Alexander, Lafayette’s iPad, Pokey and Bianca the Seal. They filled Herc in on what was going on, then spent the next hour or so making fun of the news stories playing on the TV while Alex absently flipped through magazines. It was all a nice distraction. Henry had eventually returned, changed out of his suit into khakis and polo, a copy of _Fire and Fury_ in hand. 

“Is John awake?” Alex asked. 

“Not completely, but we think he will be in the next half hour. He asked for someone.” The doctor checked her clipboard. “Senator Laurens, he’s asking for you. His father.” 

Henry looked shocked, but straightened up. “Oh. Are you...are you certain?”

She nodded. “We can take you back to his room. If he’s asking for you now, chances are when he is completely conscious seeing you will be helpful.”

“Can we go back too?” Alex asked. “We’re his boyfriends, he’ll want to see us too.”

If the fact John had multiple boyfriends was confusing to the doctor, she didn’t let on. “We find it best to not overwhelm the patient. As soon as he’s cognizant, we can ask when he’s ready to see you as well. Senator, if you’ll follow me.” 

A strange silence fell over the group, only to be broken by Herc’s laughter. “I’m sorry, but you two...the looks on your faces… Sorry, sorry, I know it’s serious, but jesus fucking christ, you two look like you just found out Santa Claus isn’t real.” 

“I am not upset,” Lafayette explained slowly. “I am very confused and surprised.”

“Well, I am,” Alex snapped. “I don’t think for a second John asked for Henry Fucking Laurens; I think he did or said something that got him in there, bribed a nurse or something.”

Lafayette wrinkled his nose. “I do not think this is so, Alexander. Surely, John woke up confused, maybe requested the presence of a family member. I do not think this is so unusual.”

“Bullshit,” Alex said. 

Herc just shook his head and continued to laugh.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When John opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was how thirsty he was. Like his mouth had been lined with cotton. He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavier than lead. Not to mention a number of tubes, leading from his nose, his arm, his side. 

“How do you feel, son?” And that’s when John realized his father was sitting in a chair next to the bed. 

“Father?” he croaked, his voice husky. “What are you doing here?”

Henry smiled softly at him. “When I heard what had happened, I hopped on the next flight out of DC here.”

This information took a moment for John to process. What had happened...what had happened. 

“You’d been shot, Jacky. At the bank. They had to to surgery, but you’re going to be ok.” 

John shut his eyes. The screaming. The blood. Pain in his side. Alexander...Alex...Alex

“Alex? Is he ok?”

Henry waved his hand carelessly. “He’s fine, he’s in the waiting room with Lafayette.” 

Oh, thank god. 

“Can I see them?” John had thought the last time he woke he’d asked for them, but he guessed he’d maybe said it wrong, been misunderstood. And while seeing his father was...fine...and he was kind of touched he cared enough to come to New York, he really only wanted Lafayette and Alexander. 

“Not yet, Jacky, soon. They don’t want to overwhelm you, doctor’s orders. You need to rest. Only immediate family right now.”

“Father, Alex and Laf…” he winced. He hadn’t told Henry yet his plans to propose, was waiting until after they said yes. If they both said yes. “They’re my family too.”

“Nonsense,” Henry said, but didn’t elaborate. 

A nurse came in, explained some things quickly. He was going to need another blood transfusion, he had to sign some papers giving his consent. The nurse showed him his pain meds button, told him they ran a catheter so he didn’t need to get up to use the bathroom. The tubes for oxygen, draining his wound, his various IVs. It was all so much information. Someone would be in later to clean and change his dressings, where the staples were. His whole side was still numb. 

Henry talked to the nurse. Talked to him. John tuned them out. He was tired, he was confused. All he wanted was Lafayette and Alexander. Nothing else. He pushed the button on the morphine drip. 

Around the time they came in to hook him up to his bag of blood, Henry checked his phone. “Son, I have to step out. I will be back soon. You rest.”

John nodded. Too sleepy to answer. 

***

Time was a strange thing in the ICU. It always felt like night. When John woke a second time, with a start, he had no clue the time. The machines around him beeped and glowed. His body felt heavy on the bed. He turned his head. 

The room was empty; he was alone. 

He stared into the dark for an endless amount of time.

Why weren’t Alex and Laf with him? Was Henry telling the truth? Or was Alex actually hurt? 

A nurse came in. His scrubs were an odd mauve color. John watched him silently as he drew blood from one of the ports in his arm. 

“Oh good, you’re up,” he said. Second vial. John watched as if it weren’t even happening to his body. “How you feeling?” 

“Like I got shot,” John said dryly, and the nurse chuckled. 

“Sounds about right. I’m Patrick, I’m your night nurse during your stay here in the ICU,” he said brightly. 

“What time is it?” John asked. 

“A little past midnight,” Patrick replied. “Last vial.” 

“Are...is there anyone waiting for me in the waiting room? Waiting to see me?” 

“Your father left for the evening, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“No, no. Two guys. Alexander and Lafayette. Um, short Latino guy. Tall black man. French accent.” Just saying those few short sentences had John out of breath. “My boyfriends.”

“I can check for you, but even if they are out there, ICU visiting hours ended at eight.” 

“Can you please check? I’d also like my phone and my bag.” 

“Of course,” Patrick promised. Finished doing his checks, made his way back out of the room. Said he’d be back soon. 

John stared at the dark until he drifted back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

The night had been long. Herc tried to convince Alex and Laf to take a break, go home, get some rest, the doctors would be in touch, but they both refused. 

“Not happening,” Alex said. Even though he’d changed out of his blood spattered clothes, he would not put down John’s bag. “My ass is staying here.”

Lafayette nodded in agreement. Pokey sat in his lap, Bianca the Seal tucked under his arm. Kind of jarring to see such a handsome, grown ass man with two stuffed toys in his lap, looking composed and exhausted. “We will be right here so when he wakes up completely, so we can see him then. Even if this is all night.”

“All night, huh?” Herc echoed. He stretched and yawned. “Well, as much as I love John and I love both of you, I love my bed more. So, I’m gonna take off.” He was helpful, however, and ran to the cafeteria to bring them dinner. “Text me when he’s up.” He accepted an absent-minded hug from Alex, a kiss on each cheek from Lafayette, then made his leave.

Around 8 pm, Henry emerged from John’s room, said visiting hours were over, and he was headed to his hotel. “You two can go home,” he suggested. 

“No chance,” said Alexander. “I know when John is ready, he’ll ask for us, and we need to be here when that happens.”

Henry just stood there awkwardly before he, too, left. 

The waiting lounge slowly emptied as the night wore on, until Alex and Laf were the only two left. Lafayette showed no signs of settling down to sleep, just sat with the plushies in his lap. Let Alex stretch out across several chairs, rest his head on him. Moved Pokey out of the way so Alex could have more room.

“Maybe we should go home,” Lafayette suggested as Alex’s eyes drifted shut. “You were hurt today too, you need to rest and sleep.” 

“This is fine,” Alex yawned. “You’re pretty comfy.”

“I am not bed comfy.” But Alex just shrugged, settled in. “I love you, mon chou.” 

“Love you too.” 

Lafayette played with his hair until he fell asleep. 

***

Lafayette decided he must have dozed off, because around four in the morning he had shut his eyes, and the next time he opened them, it was bright and light morning in the waiting room. There were people everywhere, holding cups of coffee, bouquets of flowers, balloons, jackets.

No sign of Alexander.

In a panic, Laf sat up even quicker, scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes, stood up and looked around. Holding Pokey and Bianca, he did a quick lap around the waiting room, poked his head around the corner, down the hallway. Tried to keep his panic at bay, the sudden up swelling of fear that bubbled up in his stomach. 

What happened? Was he ok? Did his injury get worse? Infection?

“There you are!” Alexander standing back in front of the seats they had been in, holding a drink carrier with steaming to-go cups and a folded paper bag. Still holding on to Pokey and Bianca, Lafayette snatched him into a quick hug, taking care not to spill the drinks, but still holding him as tightly as he could. 

“Do not do that!” Lafayette cried, shaking him by the shoulders slightly. Alex glared up at him, moved to set the drinks down. “You cannot just leave my sight!”

“Hey, hey!” Alex rubbed his upper arm soothingly when he saw how upset Laf appeared. “I just went to get coffee. Grabbed you a bagel too. I’m fine!”

“I know this, I see this… I am…” Lafayette trailed off. “Sorry, I am very tired.”

Still eyeing him, Alex broke off the hug, sat down. Handed him his drink, patted the chair next to him. “It’s been a hard twenty-four hours for all of us. Here, drink. You’ll feel better.” Lafayette collapsed in the seat next to Alex, took a sip of his drink. 

“Mmmm,” he said, closed his eyes. His coffee was light, sweet, with some sort of syrup.

“Got you some crazy vanilla mochachina nonsense from Starbucks,” Alex teased. 

“Thank you, mon chou.” His heart was still racing. “Please do not leave my sight again.”

Crinkling as Alex opened the paper bag, fishing out a bagel wrapped in butter-greased paper. Handed half of the bagel to Lafayette. “You know that’s not gonna work for me, right?” He took a bite of his bagel, munched loudly. “Like, I have shit to do.” 

“You know my meaning,” Lafayette chided. Ripped a small bite off his bagel, delicately popped it into his mouth. Dabbed the butter from his lips. “Right now, I am… Alexander, you were _shot_ \--”

“Grazed.”

“A bullet touched you from a gun. That is getting shot.” 

“Only a flesh wound,” Alex deadpanned, the reference going over Lafayette’s head.

“You were shot, John practically has died, he had to have surgery! The man who did this, he is still out there, of course I must make sure you are safe at all times.”

“Right. Anyway, you’re welcome for the coffee, it’s almost 9, I am going to check with the nurse if we can visit with John yet.” But Lafayette just followed him to the nurse’s stand at a close distance.

“Good morning,” she chirped. “How can I help you two?”

“Good morning. We are hoping we could be let into see a patient? John Laurens?” 

She nodded, still smiling. Clicked a few things on her computer. “It looks like he’s been approved for visitors.”

“Wonderful! What room?” Alexander asked as Lafayette perked up behind him.

“I’ll page the nurse assigned to him, double check he’s awake and wants to see you, and have him take you back.”

They stepped off to the side where the nurse indicated, Alex shifting finishing the bagel while Lafayette bounced on the balls of his feet nervously. They were so close to seeing John, it had been so long, so hard, and he needed both of his boys in one room, in his arms, to make sure they were both whole and safe, before he could really be calm. 

The waiting was agony.


	10. Chapter 10

“Good morning!” Patrick was at the foot of his bed, holding some fresh bandages and a gauze pad. John focused his eyes, feeling fuzzy around all of his edges.

“Ugh,” he said. 

“How ya feeling?” Came to John’s side, lifted the blanket and hospital gown. The cold air hit John’s side, where the numbness was giving away to a strange, tight pain. 

“Still shitty,” John croaked. “Did you find my boyfriends?”

“There are definitely two guys out in the waiting room, asking to see you. Alexander Hamilton and Gilbert du Motier?” He began peeling up the gauze pad covering his staples, dabbing at the dried blood. 

“That’s them, that’s them!” John tried to sit up, but the pain was heavy; the fatigue was heavier. 

“Right, so, as soon as I’m done changing your dressing, we’ll send them back.” 

John shut his eyes, the pain suddenly overwhelming him. He felt it in his very bones. It reminded him of being 19, getting the shit beat out of him outside of a bar in college, when he picked a fight with the wrong frat boy. Every cell in his body ached. The ends of his hair ached. His teeth hurt. The tips of his toes. 

He willed Patrick to hurry. He needed his boyfriends.

***

Finally, finally, finally. 

Before Henry could come interrupt. Before John went back to sleep. Before anything changed, Patrick came and got them.

“I am warning you now, he is still out of it,” he told them as he led them back. They made what felt like six turns, the ICU a maze of gurneys and doors and people running back and forth. “He had to get four blood transfusions yesterday, will probably need another. We have him on saline, vitamins, antibiotics. He’s hooked up to a morphine drip. He might be...incoherent. Disoriented.”

“That matters not,” said Lafayette and Alexander nodded in agreement. 

“We just wanna see him. What room?” 

“403.” 

Laf didn’t bother to listen to anything Patrick or Alex said after that. 

He clutched John’s Pokey and Binaca to his chest and took off in a run.


	11. Chapter 11

“John! Oh, _my love_!” John’s eyes flew open just in time to see Lafayette fall into a crouch next to his bed, hugging two stuffed toys to his chest. 

“Laf?” Alex was in the doorway now, Patrick with him. “You can’t just take off running in a hospital, you crazy French bastard--oh John, you’re up!” Alex said brightly, came to stand beside Lafayette, who was crying and babbling. He leaned his head against Alex’s leg, seemed reluctant to look directly at John, or even reach up and touch him. 

“Oh, Jack,” Alex sighed, scooted around Lafayette so he could find John’s hand in the blanket. John watched in disbelief as Alex took his hand, intertwined their fingers.

“I’ll leave you three alone,” Patrick said gently, turned to leave. 

“Is it safe to touch him?” Lafayette asked, his voice muffled from where he had buried his face in Alex’s leg. 

“Be careful of his IV lines.” Patrick cleared his throat. “I’ll be back for your blood draw in an hour so.” He left the door to the room cracked. 

“Laf, get off the floor. Drama queen.” Alex rolled his eyes, looked down at John in the bed. “You look hell, Jack.”

Lafayette stood, was wiping at his face with the back of his hand. John felt loopy looking at the two of them, like he was watching it in a fog. They were here, they were here, he wasn’t dead and they were here. 

“Laf looks worse,” John giggled, and it was almost true. He’s never seen their boyfriend so rumpled. His hair was tangled and falling out its tie, his clothes wrinkled like he’d slept in them, his eyes red and swollen, his face puffy from crying. 

Alexander busted out laughing, his own tears welling in his eyes. Lafayette ignored them, took John’s other hand and held it to his face. “Do not. Ever. Do anything. Such as this. Again. Little one.” His words sounding much steadier than he looked. 

“Right. I absolutely promise never to take a bullet for Alexander ever again,” John said, giggling. Suddenly everything was so funny, so fantastic, his side didn’t even hurt. He pushed his morphine button. 

“Wait a second,” Alex said, smirking. “You saved my life. Doesn’t that mean I’m indebted to you for life or something?”

“Ohhh, do you have to do what I say all the time?” John teased, unable to contain his giggles. Everything was just so funny! “Like, as a sex thing?” 

“I think I can get on board with that.”

“Quit your day job? Ride my dick all day?” John was snorting now, he was laughing so hard. 

“Yeah right, something tells me little Mr. Bottom Twink would rather have me split his ass 24/7,” Alex chortled. John was laughing so hard tears were leaking out his eyes, his IV lines were quivering. 

“You’re not wrong,” he wheezed. “I am little Mr. Bottom Twink!” 

Lafayette frowned at both of them. “You are both being very silly, this is serious! John has almost died from being shot, Alexander was wounded as well! Instead of joking, John needs to be recovering.”

“Laughter is the best medicine, Laf,” Alex quipped, still grinning. John smiled all big as well. 

“I can think of some other medicines that are even better,” he snorted. “Like the medicine in your pants!” He dissolved into giggles. 

Sighing, Lafayette broke away from the bed so he could drag the two chairs in the corner next to the bed, gesturing Alexander to sit next to him. 

“I’m sorry Laf,” Alex said, collapsing next to him. John saw Lafayette did look very tired, very stressed. 

“Sorry,” John echoed. Reached up to take Lafayette’s hand, watched he grasped back gratefully. “I’m going to be ok, Laf.” 

“I did bring you these,” Lafayette said quietly, set Pokey and Bianca on John’s stomach.

John squealed with delight, grabbed both of them. “Pokey!” he sighed, hugging the turtle. Left the seal in his lap. “You brought me Pokey!”

“Of course, my love,” Lafayette said. Taking care not to knock loose any tubes or lines, he smoothed his hand over John’s brow. “I know you would be missing him. And he missed you.”

“Did you go home to get him?” John asked. His bottom lip was quivering. As quickly as everything had once seemed funny, it was suddenly very serious and sad. John thought about his turtle and his seal, his very best friends, having to spend the night all alone and it made him very, very sad. 

Smoothing out Bianca’s white fur, Lafayette placed her gently on John’s chest. “Hercules brought them, when he brought Alexander a change of clothing,” he explained. 

“Yeah, you had bled all over my outfit, baby boy,” Alex added. John’s face grew pinched. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Didn’t mean to.”

“I know that!” Alex said. “But I didn’t want to spend the night in bloody clothes.”

“You guys…” John trailed off. Pushed his morphine button. That was better. “You guys spent the night here?”

They both nodded. Lafayette kissed his hand, Alex patted his foot under the blanket. “Of course!”

“Sweetie, you were in surgery for like, nine hours,” Alex said. “We didn’t...we needed to make sure you were ok.”

“And we wanted to be here when you woke up.” 

A tear slid down John’s cheek. He loved them both, so so so so much. He squeezed Pokey. It was Alex’s turn to reach up, brush the tear away. 

“So believe me when I say this. Do not scare me like this again.” 

“I won’t,” John said. “Promise.” Held his free hand up, crossed his fingers. “Ok, so the weirdest thing. I totally woke up and saw my dad after surgery! It was so real…”

“Yeah, cuz it was real,” Alex scoffed. “Henry is in New York. Laf called him.”

John’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Exactly what I said--”

“Mon cher, it was very serious. We almost lost you. I thought, that, if the worst were to happen, Henry needed to be here.”

“Ok, I get that. Why was he the one in my room when I woke up? Not you? If you were both...here?” He trailed off. The drugs were kicking back in, and exhaustion tugged at his eyelids. 

Alexander shrugged. “Dunno. Doctor came out, said you asked for him.”

John cast his mind back like a net, trying to remember. He remembered the bright room, the white lights. “No, I definitely asked for both of you.” He yawned. 

“That is very odd,” Lafayette mused. 

“Wait…” John’s eyes flew back open. “What did the doctor say?”

“That you were awake, asking for your father,” Alex filled in. Was looking at John strangely. John, whose face broke into another loopy smile, his eyes glazed over, suddenly giggling again.

“Oh. Oh, god.” He was blushing and laughing, his eyes crinkling shut. “Oh, it’s soooo embarrassing, oh my god.” 

“What?” Lafayette asked, but Alex was smirking. 

“I _did_ ask for both of you,” John’s voice growing shrill.

“Then why did they send in Henry?”

John was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak. His face was bright red, tears of mirth leaking down his cheeks. “Because what I said was ‘I want Daddy! I want Papi!’” He shrieked, dissolved in a strange mix of laughing and crying. 

“Of course you did!” Alex hooted. “Of course you fucking did!”

Despite his sour mood, even Lafayette cracked a smile. Things must not be too bad if both of his boys could laugh. “I must admit, I am touched that you truly did want us when you awoke, mon cher,” he said. Squeezed John’s hand. John grinned up at him through his tears. Even with his almost ghostly pallor, the dark circles under his eyes, and the network of tubes coming out of him, John smiling was one the loveliest sights Lafayette had ever seen. 

“Of course I wanted you!” John insisted. “All I wanted.” He yawned. Tapped his button for more drugs. “Well, now all I want is a nap.” His side was hurting from laughing, and he was so very tired. 

Lafayette smoothed the blanket, tucked Pokey and Bianca in with him. “Close your eyes, my darling. You can sleep.”

“Be here when I wake up?” John asked in a small voice. 

“Promise, baby boy,” Alex said. Held his fingers up in the same crossed position John had earlier. 

John shut his eyes. 

***

He wasn’t sure how long he napped. Perhaps an hour, perhaps longer. Patrick came in at one point, took more blood (Lafayette had to avert his gaze, but surprisingly was able to stay in the room). John drifted back off for some more time, then suddenly his eyes flew open.

The bank.

His bag.

_The rings!_

“My bag!” He said, trying to sit up. Lafayette gently pushed him back into the pillows, shushed him. “Where’s my bag?”

“Alexander has it,” Lafayette said soothingly. “Do not fret, my love, just relax…”

John ignored him, sat up despite his protests, despite the tugs of his IV, of his breathing tube. “Oh, and today is Saturday, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” Alex provided brightly. 

“Oh no, oh no, the restaurant,” he moaned. 

 

“The last thing you need to be worried about is canceling our date, Jack, I’m sure the venue will understand, you got shot!” Alex admonished. Gently set the book bag on John’s lap. John did his best to unzip the satchel, began rifling through its contents, ignored their questions. He’d get in contact with the restaurant eventually, that didn’t matter, none of it really mattered. But he had to get this out now. Now or never. 

Sat back up, pushed the bag to the floor. The ring boxes in his hands. 

Now or never.


	12. Chapter 12

John’s hands shook as he set two black velvet boxes on his lap. Alexander opened his mouth to ask a question, but was quickly shushed by Lafayette, who then said “ _mon Dieu,_ ” in a strange, hushed voice that caught Alexander off guard. 

“This isn’t how I pictured this at all,” John said, his words mushy and tears already gathering in his eyes. “I had a whole thing planned tonight, a whole big thing.” He was overcome with emotion. The scene in his head had been beautiful. The whole history of their time together laid out on the table. The three of them dressed up. Everyone smiling. Perfect. Instead, he was laid out in a hospital bed, covered in tubes and staples and dried sweat, high on morphine.

It didn’t matter. 

“And now...now I can’t even get down on one knee.”

“Jack--” Alex began again, but Lafayette said “Shh! Alexander! Let him speak!”

Alexander glared at him. “I was just going to say…” But John held up his hand. 

“I don’t think it matters that I can’t...can’t even...do this right,” John continued. “Because anything...anything can happen, any second, and if I had died--” Lafayette made a small, panicked sound, and Alex flinched. “--without doing this first…” 

John took a few more fortifying breaths. This was it. After years of being with them, loving them, living with them. He had to do this. He could do this.

Whatever speech he had planned, whatever words he’d practiced, all turned to mush in his brain. None of it mattered. The only things that did matter were the rings and the question. 

“Lafayette? Alexander?” John picked a ring box in each hand, managed to pop them open, the rings glinting in the fluorescent light. Lafayette gasped, Alex cursed under his breath, in what sounded like disbelief. “Can we all be husbands? Please?” Knew that wasn’t quite the right wording, but it didn’t matter.

Alex stood up so fast, a huge grin plastered on his face while Lafayette started crying, huge ugly tears, his face scrunched up as words seemed to escape him. 

“Ok, ok, look! Jack! Ask again! You’re not really on your knee, but, like...you’re lower…” 

Tilted his head back, also grinning, but looking confused. “Is that a yes?”

“Ask again,” Alex prompted. Still crying, Lafayette peered up too, facial expression mirroring John’s.

“Can we all be husbands?” John repeated. “Will you marry me? And Laf? And each other? Like, all of us, get married?” 

“Hell yeah, we’ll get married!” Alex said, held his hand out to John. “Yes!” 

All three of them were crying, profusely now, tears falling in thick rivers down three sets of cheeks. Hands still shaking, John plucked Alex’s ring from the box, slid it onto his left hand ring finger. 

It fit perfectly. 

“Lafayette,” John said gently, still holding his ring box. “You haven’t said anything.”

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders now shaking, he was crying so hard. John was suddenly mortified. 

“Did I do it wrong?” he asked in a tiny voice. Set the ring box back down, touched Lafayette’s arm gently. “We don’t...if you’re not ready--”

“It is not wrong!” Lafayette burst out from behind his hands. Took a few steadying breaths, his voice warbling. He gulped some air, tried to dab some of the tears away, but it was a lost cause. His face was swollen, drying tears and snot everything, eyelashes clumped from crying. “Of course I am ready! Have been ready! I am just so...so...happy!” he wailed, fell forward, face in John’s blanket at his knees. He said something in French to Alexander, before dissolving into more tears. 

Alex shook his head, huffed a quiet laugh, pat the top of Laf’s head comfortingly. “It’s been a hard twenty-four hours,” he admitted. “It’s ok, hon. Let it all out.” 

When he finally composed himself, managed to sit up, he was still looking exhausted and overwhelmed. A few tears kept falling, but he wasn’t sobbing anymore. “If it is not obvious--”

“It’s not,” interrupted Alex.

“--It is a yes from me as well, little one.”

Feeling slightly punch drunk, with adrenaline, with morphine, with relief, with pure happiness, John let out a wild giggle. “Gimme your hand!” he said, and slid the ring onto Laf’s finger, admiring the way the white gold stood out against his dark skin. Lafayette brought his hand to his face, examined the ring closely though the tears that refused to stop. 

“Little one, it is so beautiful!” He gasped. 

“Read the...read the inscri--scrpts...the words on the inside,” John said. He was feeling very sleepy again, and the pain was creeping back up on him. The next dose of morphine had him feeling heavy and slow. “Words,” he repeated sleepily.

In unison, they both slid off their rings, inspected them. “My sea,” Alexander read out loud, sounding puzzled. 

“My sky,” Lafayette echoed. He looked wistful. 

“And I’m the moon,” John added, sounded loopy.

“I don’t get it,” said Alex, eyebrows crinkling. “Sweetie, were you high when you ordered these, too?” 

With a slight scoff, Lafayette shook his head. “Alexander, for a celebrated writer, you often forget important details!” Alex continued to look blank, just shake his head in confusion. “When we were in Disney World? The first night we even have this talk? John said you were like his sea, I was his sky. We said he was the moon! And we made love! It was very beautiful!”

“Ohhhhhh!” Alex slid his ring back on, flopped back into his chair. “Ok I remember that. That’s really sweet, Jack.” 

“Thanks,” John slurred. The drugs were getting the best of him, pumping through his veins. He was so sleepy. “We’re gonna get married?”

“I think that’s what this means,” Alex teased, holding up his hand, letting the band glitter. It looked so pretty, so right. John smiled. 

Lafayette just started crying again.

“Oh dear god in heaven, what is it now?” Alex asked, sounding impatient. “Laf, we’ve been together over a decade, I swear you’ve cried more in the last two hours than you have in the last ten years.”

“I am sorry, Alexander,” Lafayette sobbed. “But I just realized one of the loves of my life proposed to me, and I am wearing yesterday’s gym clothes, my hair is a mess, and I have been crying…” He sniffled, wiped a finger under each eye. “Be honest, my loves. How do I look?” 

“Horrible,” said Alex. “Like absolute hell.” 

Lafayette moaned dramatically, tried to straighten his clothes. “Oh, this is no good, this is no good at all…”

“Stop, honey,” John said, placed his hand over Lafayette’s. Ran his thumb over the ring. “You look beautiful. Perfect. Like my future husband.” 

 

Lafayette flashed him a grin, choked a small laugh through his tears. 

“One of your future husbands,” Alex corrected. “And my future husband too. One of them. We’ve been engaged less than five minutes and already this is confusing.”

“It is perfect,” Lafayette insisted. Kissed John’s hand. John, who was falling asleep yet again. 

“I love you both,” he yawned. Closed his eyes. Fell asleep to the sound of Alex and Laf, his future husbands, his fiances, the loves of his life, echoing his sentiment.

***

Voices. Voices loud. Outside the door. In the room. 

John popped an eye open. 

The room was (artificially) dark. No clue the time. Alex, sitting by his bed, half asleep. “They’re being so loud,” he grumbled, went to stand to tell them to shush, but the noise (and those making it) bust into the room.

“Lafayette, I am his _father_ , how dare you not contact me as soon as he was fully awake!” Henry griped, striding into the room, bringing in a negative energy, followed by a harried and disheveled looking Lafayette. 

“Henry, I am sorry, but John had requested some quiet, the hustle, the bustle, was too much. He needed rest!” Laf sounded on the verge of tears; hated anyone being mad at him, was already having an emotional day. “I was planning to contact you as soon as John was ready for more visitors.”

A different nurse, apologizing, had followed them in. He was a formidable looking gentleman, reminded John vaguely of Hercules. “Senator Laurens, as a legal adult, your son has full control over who he invites into his room. I assure you he gave full consent to Mr. du Motier and Mr. Hamilton coming in.” 

“Right, so it is hospital policy to alert the patients...boyfriends...of said patient’s progress before immediate family? Even though the first person he requested when he came out of anesthesia was me, his father?” 

Before the nurse, or Lafayette, could respond, John started laughing wildly from the bed. The whole thing was absurd, funny, hysterical. The morphine and exhaustion had him happy, and loose, and he needed his father to truly understand that. 

“Father, they aren’t my boyfriends! Not anymore!” John declared, giggling. “They’re my fiances!” He was overcome with the giggles. Alex grinned, particularly at the confused look on Henry’s face. 

“Excuse me?” said Henry. 

Alex held his hand up triumphantly, wiggled his finger to show off the ring. Lafayette came and stood next to Henry, smiling timidly. Held his hand aloft as well. “John proposed,” he explained. 

“To both of you?”

They nodded. 

“Nonsense. Gay marriage may be legal, but group marriage--”

“As much as you enjoy restricting people’s private rights,” Alex interjected. “You’ll find there are ways around the law, and we plan on ironing out the details later.”

“Well. Congratulations,” Henry said stiffly, as if he still didn’t believe it. “That doesn’t negate the fact I should have been told of his progress, he did, after all ask for me--”

Here, John’s laughter grew louder. He had pushed his button again, and the painkillers coursing through him in a way that made everything brighter and better. “Father, I didn’t ask for you!” he crowed. The room was shimmering. “I asked for Daddy! And Papi!”

Lafayette stood stock still next to Henry, a tense silence falling upon all of them, including the nurse. But John was gone, and much to Alexander’s delight and Lafayette’s absolute mortification, John continued. 

“I don’t call you Daddy or Papi, Father! Nope! I call them that! Have...have for years!” he was laughing so hard he was hiccuping, tears streaming down his face. “‘You might be my father, but you ain’t my daddy!’” he quipped, the impression of Yandu surprisingly spot on. Alexander joined in the laughter, and Lafayette buried his face in his hands. 

The nurse cleared his throat. “I’ll be back...in a bit...rounds,” he said, hustled out of the room. 

Henry took in a few deep breaths. “Son, I understand you’ve been through a lot, and you’re disoriented. Perhaps, when you are in a clearer state of mind, we can discuss life altering decisions like marriage, but until then, please listen--”

“No! No, Father! You listen to me!” His voice raised, and as quick as it came, the laughter disappeared. “Alexander. And Lafayette. Mean more to me than pretty much anything in the whole fucking world. And I don’t care what you think, or your voters, or the pope, or literally anyone else. I’m marrying both of them. We’re gonna all be husbands, and you can’t stop me because I’m a grown ass man. Now. Kindly leave my hospital room so I can have some privacy with my fiances!”

“Son--”

“I said good day!” John snapped. Folded his arms and glared. 

With a sigh, Henry turned to leave. “I love you, Jacky,” he said softly. “Get some rest.” 

The door closed with a soft click behind him.

As soon as the three of them were alone, Alex let out a cheer. “Wow, ok that was one of the _greatest_ things I have ever witnessed in my life!” 

John cracked a smile, stretched as best as he could. “Well, after getting shot in the side, then proposing to the two most amazing men in the world, standing up to Henry isn’t so scary!” 

Alex turned to look at Laf, who was still hiding behind his hands. “You gonna come help me hold vigil next to this boy’s bedside or are you crying again?” Noticed how Laf’s shoulders were quaking.

As he emerged from behind his hands, they both saw Lafayette was not crying. No. He was shaking with laughter instead.

“Oh, sweet thing, that was incredible naughty,” he said, collapsing in the chair next to Alexander. “Henry is very mad.”

“Don’t care,” John said through a yawn. “What’s he gonna do? Ground me?”

“This may be true. But do not think your behavior will go unpunished,” Lafayette continued. Tucked the blanket snugger around John’s feet, just to have something to do with his hands. “If your father cannot dole out a consequence, Daddy and Papi will be happy to.”

“Ohhh,” John said, smirking. “Sounds fun.”

“It will be. But first, you must get better,” Lafayette said. John nodded. 

“Right.” He pouted. “I was really looking forward to hot post-proposal sex tonight.” 

“Who says we can’t?” Alex asked. “You were shot in the side, not your dick or your ass. Those still work, right?” He lifted the blanket, peered at John’s body underneath. Quickly, he replaced the blanket, emerged looking shocked and disgusted. “There’s a tube going into your dick!” 

John yawned again, smiled. Lafayette’s curiosity got the better of him, and he snuck a peak too. “Catheter. So I don’t have to get up to go wee wee.” He snickered. 

“Does it hurt?” Lafayette asked, turning pale. “It looks painful!” 

“Nuh uh,” said John. “Barely feel it.” 

“Right, so, sex waits until all strange tubes are out of your body,” Alex confirmed. “My dick is having sympathy pains.”

“Doesn’t hurt,” John reassured him. Cuddled deeper into his pillow, hugged Pokey. “It will be better when I’m home. Not enough room for all three of us on this bed.”

“I was picturing more of a...blow job situation,” Alex admitted. “But that’s clearly out of the question.”

“Is it though?” John asked. “It’s like they put the straw in it for you!” He started laughing again. “Slurp, slurp.”

“Stop!” Alex admonished. “Gross!” 

But John kept laughing. “Little one, perhaps you should work on settling down, resting.” He fluffed John’s pillow, tucked Bianca in with him, fussed with the bed angle. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?” 

“No, baby, I’m good.” John fluttered his eyelashes, looked up at Laf. “I lied. I wanna kiss. Please.” Puckered his lips. 

Working around his oxygen tube was a challenge, but Lafayette managed. He kissed him first, then Alexander, then they kissed each other. It gave the room a much more settled, romantic steady feeling. 

Until Alexander broke it. “Hey, remember that time John told his homophobic father that he had a daddy kink for his two fiances by quoting Guardians of the Galaxy?”

They were all laughing again.


	13. Chapter 13

Around eight, when visiting hours actually ended, John told them to please, please, please go home. 

“Do not sleep in the waiting room again,” he said. “Alex needs rest. Lafayette needs to change. And no offense, but you both need showers.” 

So after many kisses, tucking John in, tears (Laf’s), giggles (John’s), they reluctantly left him for the night, with promises to return first thing the next morning. They settled him in with his phone, Alex pulling up Moana on the Netflix app and plugging in his earbuds.

As soon as they were in the uber to get home, Lafayette collapsed against Alex in an exhausted heap, grabbing at his shirt, pulling him close. 

“Hey, hey, what gives, babe? You ok?” Lafayette had nestled his face against Alex’s uninjured shoulder, was clinging to him with a neediness and urgency very unlike himself. 

“No, Alexander. I am not ok,” Laf admitted, his voice muffled by Alex’s jacket. “Both of my loves were shot. One is still in the hospital. I almost lost the two most precious things on earth to me.” He yanked Alexander closer, so he was practically in his lap. “As heartfelt as John’s proposal was, it was not how I ever imagined. No photos. No romantic venue. You are both so special to me, this moment should have been magical, not in a hospital!” 

“I dunno, it’s pretty unique,” Alex teased, but Lafayette just hugged him silently. “Look, if it means that much, perhaps you can plan something...for when John gets home.”

“Perhaps,” Lafayette said, sounding so tired. He was quiet the rest of the car ride. 

 

***

They were barely three steps in the door and Lafayette was all over him, crowding him against the wall, tugging at his clothing, their lips crashing together like thunder. Alex couldn’t get his bearing, let himself be swept into Lafayette’s arms, surrendered to the taste and feel of his lips on his. 

This was their way. The unspoken, fierce energy between them. Born of years and years of togetherness, days and weeks and months of learning and practicing, of knowing another body as well (or better) than your own. They rarely needed to speak; without saying anything aloud, Alexander knew exactly what Lafayette needed, what he was asking for, without a single word leaving his mouth. Not that he could speak, not with his teeth digging into Alexander's neck, an animal-like hunger in his every motion. In his breath. Lafayette hoisted Alexander into his arms, pinned him against the wall, cradling Alex under his legs so they could wrap around his waist. Pressed their bodies together, held himself as close as he could get. 

"You are alive," Lafayette gasped into his ear, fit himself closer. Kissed him deeply, raked his fingers through Alexander's hair. Alex met him kiss for kiss, move for move, pushed up against him, moaned into his mouth. Received every message Lafayette was trying to tell him, through his touch, his kisses, his closeness. 

Shirts gone. Lafayette nuzzling the crook of his neck, kissing, nibbling, tasting every inch of skin in reach. Alexander, never one for patience, appreciated the breakneck speed, the urgency. The very thought that Laf had to have him, had to have him now, had him hard as a rock, despite not being touched anywhere but his face, his shoulders his neck. Laf paused his exploration of Alex's shoulder, examined the wound on his bicep. The four inch gash, pink and red and stitched up tightly. As his eyes traced the path of the bullet, they welled up with tears. 

"They hurt you," he whispered, lower lip trembling. His grip on Alexander's hips tightened; a tear snaked down his cheek, plopped onto Alex's collarbone. 

"Sweetheart, I'm fine," Alexander assured him. "It's nothing."

Lafayette shook his head vehemently. "Not nothing." Caught him in another kiss. 

"Save your worrying for John," Alex urged him. 

"And for you?" Lafayette asked, his eyes crinkling as he studied his face. It got this way sometimes, Lafayette worrying that too much attention was given to John, that he was neglecting Alex. Alex had to reassure him that, no, he didn't feel neglected, and he spoke up if he did. They all needed different things. And he would always relish these moments, these precious times when it was just the two of them, feeling the man he'd loved the longest and deepest giving him nothing but attention, nothing but his _adoration_.

Not that he ever minded sharing him with John. Sharing wasn't even the right word. Watching Lafayette love John was its very own special thing, made him fall in love with both of them more, deeper, harder. 

But sometimes, all he wanted and needed was Lafayette. 

"For me?" Alex purred, thumbed away Laf's tears. "Make me _feel_ it."

Through his sparse tears, Lafayette smiled. "I can arrange this," Lafayette said. Another kiss. Kissed him all the way to the bedroom, carrying him with Alex's legs wrapped around his waist. Awkward but efficient. Close. _Closer_. 

Laid him out on the bed. Tugged off the rest of their clothes. Lafayette's shorts. Alex's jeans. Socks. Boxer briefs. Every layer shed, falling to the floor. Lips trailed over his throat, down his chest, across his tummy. Alex grinned down at him, watched Lafayette taste him. Already he looked calmer, his sadness and stress melting into desire. He kissed the border of his pubic hair, one hand curling to cup his asscheek, fingertips teasing at his hole. 

"My future husband gonna suck that dick?" Alex asked, voice lilting in a bit of a tease, just a touch bratty, but mostly soft. He cocked a smirk, touched Laf's hair encouragingly. Laf's eyelashes fluttered, and he licked the tip, dainty and sweet. 

"The lube, please," he requested, held out his hand so Alex could squirt some into his palm. "Talk to me?" Peered up at him through his lashes. Looked younger and more innocent than Lafayette had any business looking. On very rare occasions did Laf request such a thing from him, for him to aim his verbal sword at him. And while John might enjoy Alexander using his words to humiliate, cajole, control, Lafayette required something different when he wanted Alex to talk. When he was in this mood. 

He wanted him to be sweet. 

"Fuck, babe," Alex said. Cupped the side of Lafayette's face as he took Alexander's cock deep into his mouth in one swallow, while at the same time slipped a finger gently into his ass. The competing sensations were exquisite, and Alex moaned, wiggled his hips slightly, to emphasize his appreciation. "God, your mouth feels great. Looks pretty, too. You always look so pretty and sweet, sucking cock. Especially my cock. Nothing fits better in that pretty mouth than your future husband's dick, right?" 

Lafayette nodded, encouraged him. Took him deeper, all the way to the back of his throat, while adding a second finger, spreading and stretching. "Seriously, one of my favorite sights. You, laid out on the bed. Your face in between my legs. Pretty lips wrapped around my fat dick. So many people would kill to have this view." 

Laf moaned, deep in his chest, the vibrations reverberating through Alexander, making him halt his narration. He cursed under his breath, wove his fingers into Laf's curls, steered his head a bit. Lafayette rarely allowed this, almost never let him take control. So when he did, Alex knew to both toe the line and savor every second. Alexander lifted his hips, thrust in and out of Laf's mouth, his toes curling as Laf pressed on his prostate, prodded at him, encouraged. Sucked the bit of pre that leaked from his tip, laved his tongue on the underside. 

"My god, feels like fucking heaven," Alex sighed. Slow, deep thrusts. Laf swallowed around him, his throat undulating over Alex's length. "You're too good at this, sweetheart. Jesus fuck, keep doing that, and I'm gonna nut right down your pretty throat." 

Lafayette pulled off then, with a loud pop as he added a third finger. "We cannot have that, mon chou," he said softly. "We will come together?" 

"Fuck yeah," said Alex, fucked himself back and forth on Lafayette's fingers. "Wanna feel you, baby, wanna feel my fiance's cock, deep in my ass, come on sweetheart."

"In a moment," Lafayette promised. Planted a kiss on Alex's thigh, the flesh soft there. "Right now, I like watching you ride my fingers." 

"Like this?" Alex breathed. Moved with Laf's hand, chased the incredible feeling of him pushing on his walls, seeking his prostate, the back and forth, the give and take. Laf's fingers were long and thick and practically enough on their own, could lay in bed and get fingered by him for hours, if time would allow. "Could do this all day."

But slow was no longer working for Lafayette. Yes, they had the all time in the world, their futures laid out like a map. The months and years that would come. Being engaged. Getting married. A house. A family. Years and years of happiness and love that someone like him had no business deserving. But right now, he needed Alexander, needed him like he needed air and water and sunshine. Needed to bury himself deep in his warmth, feel his heartbeat, everything about him that was alive, under him, beneath him, all around him. Hitched Alexander up higher, planted his hands on the mattress, entered him in one deep thrust, that made Alex cry out and buck up against him. "I love you," he said. "I love you so much, mon chou."

"Love you too," Alex gasped, hooked his legs around Laf's hips. Dug his heels into his ass, spurred him on. "Show me how much." 

They fucked for what felt like hours, Lafayette digging into him over and over, his face in Alex's hair, his mouth at his ear on his lips. Drinking from him like he were a fountain. Relishing in his heat, his energy, every beautiful part of him that was, in this moment, his. Lafayette loved Alexander as long as he'd known him, for so long their lives were a tangled knot of history. And every time he remembered that phone call, that moment where he thought he could have lost him, it was like a dagger in his heart. 

On a regular day, Lafayette and Alexander didn't need certain things from each other. No lengthy declarations, no poetry, no lavish gifts or huge gestures. Their love was the everyday. The mundane _was_ their poetry. But moments like this, when that love was beating right under both of their skin, when it was in every heartbeat, every breath, every sigh, every whisper, every second, that was special. 

Even though Lafayette was not one to cry during sex, Alexander was not surprised to see tears on his face, right as he came, and there after, when he held him. Stretched out together, legs tangled, lips pressed on his face, sweat and tears all over both of them.

"I cannot think of a day I want to be without you," Lafayette said. "I am...when I think for a moment that maybe I would lose you, it would be as if part of my very self would die." 

"I'm not going anywhere," Alex promised. "Hey, shhh, it's ok, darling. It's gonna take more than a bullet to the arm to get rid of me." 

"Do not joke," Laf pled, his eyes shining with more tears. "I am being serious. I know John has proposed to both of us, but I want to hear from you. Will you marry me, as well, Alexander?"

Alex had to tamp down his reflexive response, which was to ask Lafayette if he was being willfully stupid, that duh, of course he wanted to marry him as well. Was it not obvious? But instead, he combed his fingers through his hair, smiled softly at him. "Yes, Lafayette," he said. "God, yes, I wanna marry you."

Finally, a smile. "We will all get married," Laf said dreamily. "I will have my two dream men be my two dream husbands. I am so happy."

"Me too," said Alex. "Now, can we talk about that shower? John was kinda right, you do stink." 

With a look of grand indignation, Laf sat up quickly, looking mortified. "I stink?" he wailed. "John did not say this! How did you have sex with me when I smell bad?" 

"Ok, John didn't say," Alex teased. "Because we know he likes your B.O. But me? Not so much. But, we all know I'd have sex with you even if you smelled like rotting fish."

Lafayette sat up all the way and stretched, a hint of his normal cheerfulness brightening his eyes. "Because you love me that much?"

Alex joined him, stretched, sighed when his back cracked. "Naw, babe. Dick game that strong." 

Laf snickered, pulled him towards the bathroom. Turned the shower on. Held him under the running water, kissed him until it turned cold.


	14. Chapter 14

Three weeks and four days. That was the length of John’s stay at Bellevue. He was moved from the ICU after about a week. Henry stuck around that long, spending time in the room when Alexander was at work and Lafayette took breaks to hit the gym, run errands. Henry seemed to be having trouble being around Alexander and Lafayette, the atmosphere growing awkward when the three of them were in the elevator or John’s room all at once. Lafayette tried to bridge that strange feeling, but Alex made it worse, throwing sharp political digs Henry’s way, trying to bait him into an argument. And John, bolstered by his newfound voice and the false confidence of whatever painkillers was coursing through his veins that day, would have none of it. Would sass his father, be extra affectionate with his fiances in front of him, and try to talk about wedding planning, all to be met with stiff reluctance. All in all, the boys were relieved to see Henry return to DC. 

“Not because of his senate voting record,” Alex clarified when John said as much. 

The three weeks and four days of John’s hospital stay were a strange new routine for all of them. Lafayette promptly quit his job at the wine bar he had been working at so he could assume the responsibility of visiting John and taking care of their household full time. He also knew that when John came home from the hospital, the rest of his recovery would require some sort of caretaking and support, which he was all too happy to do. In fact, he was excited about such a role. 

“I would have needed to quit eventually anyway, mon chou,” he explained to Alexander. They were standing in line at John’s favorite ramen bar, waiting for their take out. 

“Why’s that?” Alex asked suspiciously. 

“I am assuming that planning our nuptials will be a full time job on its own, yes?” he declared, his eyes shining with a manic glint that made Alexander uneasy, but he decided it best to drop the discussion for the moment .

For Alexander, the next three weeks were much the same as ever. He still went to work, but cut back on his hours in the office, opting instead to post up in John’s hospital room and working on pieces there when possible. It was kinda nice, lounging in one of the faux leather chairs, feet propped up on John’s hospital bed, watching bad day time television while tapping away at his latest story. The two bonded over stupid courtroom reality TV, Ellen, and whatever dumb marathon was on TLC that day. 

Even Alex had to admit it was nice, spending time together, still working, but not only working. 

John’s days were much the same. Resting. Napping. Bad TV. Nurse checks. Blood draws. Medications. Chats with the doctors and surgeon. Physical therapy where he practiced walking. The only lasting impact of the bullet would be a nasty scar that wrapped around his side, but hte surgery and being laid out for days and weeks took time to build back up his strength. Already he was moaning about muscle loss and weight gain and losing his six pack. 

“Ya’ll won’t love me anymore if I get fat and squishy,” he whined one night, after Lafayette had cleared away the paper plates and pizza boxes from the dinner they shared. He’d deemed the hospital food “bland, unhealthy and unacceptable” and ignored Alexander’s snarking that fast food and take out wasn’t exactly a nutritious substitute. 

“Please stop that, little one,” he admonished, noting John’s pouty little frown. He was already in a bad mood since they had reduced his pain killer dosage that day, was struggling with getting comfortable. They were two weeks, six days into this nonsense and John was pretty much done. “We will love you no matter what your body looks like, and you will always be beautiful to me.”

“Yeah, Laf might love you more if you get pudgy, honestly,” Alex snickered. “He’s kinda a chubby chaser.” 

The look on Laf’s face said it all. “I am no such thing, Alexander, I am body positive, appreciate the human in form in many of its iterations--”

“Some of the best sex we ever had was when I put on those ten pounds visiting you that summer in Paris,” Alex shot back. “You couldn’t keep your hands off of me, loved touching my tummy, my love handles…” He trailed off, looking wistful. John was giggling.

“In my defense, you are very cute, Alexander,” Lafayette said primly. “An extra few pounds does not change this. And would not change that with John as well.”

Alex patted John’s hand reassuringly. “So what I’m saying is, a little extra cushion for the pushin’ won’t change nothing.”

***

It had been three weeks, four days. Twenty-eight days. Almost a month. More than enough time in the god forsaken hospital. 

John wasn’t completely healed. That would take weeks. Probably months until he felt 100% normal. He’d have to come back to the hospital in five days, get the rest of his staples out. He had follow ups with the surgeon. Imaging he needed done. Physical therapy and gentle exercises. It would be awhile before he could swim laps in the pool again.

On the 28th day, Alexander took off of work. He and Lafayette packed up John’s belongings that were scattered around the hospital room. His Pokey and Binaca. His drawing tablet. His laptop. The stack of books he’d worked through. His sketchbook. Various articles of clothing. His dirty socks. His body wash and skin care regiment. 

“It’s like the end of the worst vacation ever,” Alex noted, tucking John’s box of colored pencils into the outer pocket of his backpack. 

They insisted on wheeling him out of the hospital to the waiting uber, a paper bag of his prescriptions in his lap, alongside Pokey and Binaca. John was practically bouncing in the back seat of the car. It was like being born. The sun on his face, the sight, sounds and smells of the city. All of it was new, and fresh, and he had missed it so much. He sat in the back tucked up next to Alexander, Lafayette taking shotgun, admonishing the driver if he took a turn too fast or ran over a bump in the road with too much speed. 

“Please drive more careful, my friend,” Lafayette said slowly, a little dangerously. “My fiance in the back is recovering from a gunshot wound, cannot be jostled like so.”

The driver rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, honey,” John piped up from the back. 

It took them twice as long as normal to get home, with the traffic and the driver taking it as slow as Lafayette insisted. The afternoon was growing late, even with the daylight savings time change. The sunlight glowing golden. John thought their building never looked more lovely than it did in the changing light, having not seen it for almost a month. He itched to get upstairs, inside, into his home, his bed, surrounded by his fiances and their collective lives. 

The elevator ride up both Alexander and Lafayette were unusually quiet. Much to John’s suspicion, they kept exchanging significant looks, which he supposed they thought were unnoticed. 

“Ok,” he said. “What are you two on about? Did you paint the walls? Get new furniture?” 

But they wouldn’t say, just both wore matching smirks the rest of the ride up. 

John sighed, anxious to see what surprise awaited him at their home. 

They lugged his bags down the hall, not letting John carry anything heavier than Pokey, which was honestly fine by him. The short walk from the car to the lobby, the elevator to their door left him winded. Alexander held his hand. Lafayette slid the key in the door.


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing John noticed about the room was the color. As if the setting sun had been captured and brought into their living room, the whole place was bursting golden. And yes, it was the light, as it bled through their windows and lit up the place. On every available surface, bundles and bundles of sunflowers. In vases. Mason jars. Tied up with ribbon, scattered on the coffee table, side tables. Gathered in a basket. Bouquets of them. Everywhere. Lighting up the room, making it glow. 

John turned to look at his boys, hearing the door click and lock, seeing them smile and look expectant. 

“It’s gorgeous,” John said. “Was it necessary? I’m home, I’m ok, I’m--”

“Shhh,” said Alex as he dropped John’s bag, kicked off his shoes. Lafayette picked John up, carried him the ten feet to the couch. 

“Also not necessary,” John grumbled. 

“Let us do this,” Lafayette said. Instead of joining him on the couch, as John expected, he fell to one knee in front of him. John looked puzzled, watched in bewilderment as Alex joined Lafayette in the same stance, grinning. 

“Correct me if I am wrong,” John said slowly. “Buuuut, didn’t I already propose in the hospital? Or was that some kind of anesthesia and morphine induced hallucination?” He checked, saw their engagement rings on each hand. 

“Oh, it was real,” Alex assured him. And in his hands wasn’t a ring or a box, but a book. “But we felt...well…” He set the book in John’s lap. It was a leather bound journal type book, in soft tan. Stamped on the cover, in script…

“‘Why We Said Yes’?” John read aloud, his voice lilting up in a question. “You wrote a book on this…?”

“Just...just open it, you absolute terror,” Alexander snipped. “A random page, it doesn’t matter.”

Following instructions, John flipped to a random page in the book. “‘Number thirty-eight,’” he read aloud. “‘The way you sing to yourself when you’re cooking.’” It was in Alex’s strangely spiky handwriting, all caps. Took up almost the whole page. He looked up at them. 

“Another,” Alex requested. John flipped a few pages over. 

“‘Number fifty-two. That stupid voice you use when you meet a dog.”’

Lafayette gestured for him to keep going, so he chose a few more at random. 

“‘Number sixty-one. The color of your eyes. Number eighty-five. How your hair always smells like strawberries. Number one-hundred and sixteen. The way you look in lingerie. Number one-hundred and twenty-seven. Your laugh…” 

On and on, a different sentiment on each of the two-hundred pages, some in Alex’s handwriting, others in Lafayette’s looping cursive. Two hundred different reasons, ranging from the the mundane (“number ninety-four, you always remember to charge my kindle”) to the overly-sentimental (“number twenty, the way you tear up at the end of Pixar movies, no matter how many times you’ve watched it”); from the silly (“number one thirty-six, that goofy laugh you do when you’re half-drunk”) to the wildly inappropriate (“number seventy-nine, the winning combination of a tight ass and a thick dick, seriously Alex?”).

Two hundred truths, laid out in his lap, for him to flip through. 

“I’ll read it,” he said setting it down. “Cover to cover, I can’t...I’m…” he trailed off, tears filling his eyes. “I can’t right now.” His meds were making it hard to focus, and his heart was brimming with emotion.

“Baby, you don’t have to,” Alex said, petting his thigh. Both of them still each on one knee in front of him. “It’s for you to look at when you want. Anytime you want.”

John nodded, gently closed the book, set it on the side table. “Thank you. Means...means so much. Can I get a hug now?” 

“Non,” said Lafayette. “Not yet.” And John watched in slightly sleepy disbelief as Lafayette presented a box, in eggshell blue velvet. “John Laurens,” he began, voice warbling nervously. “Will you--”

“Marry us?” Alex finished, right as Lafayette flipped open the box. In spite of himself, John gasped. A gorgeous engagement band in warm rose gold, inset with a single, perfectly clear diamond. It sparkled in the setting sun. 

“Ohhh….” John said, leaned in to look closer. Along the inner band, engraved in vintage type-set, a single word. 

_Ours._

Feelings threatened to overtake him. He flapped his hands in excitement, offered his left hand. “Put it on me, put it on!” he squeaked, his tears threatened to spill. Fingers shaking, Lafayette plucked the ring delicately from the blue velvet bed, slid it onto John’s ring finger. Alex, noting the shake in Laf’s hands, gently touched his shoulder.

“Babe, come on. You were nervous? He already proposed to us! And you asked me to marry you in bed the other day!” 

But Lafayette didn’t answer, was too busy examining all three of their hands, each adorned with its own engagement ring. Perfection in triplicate. 

“It’s perfect,” John said. He yawned. “As much as I love seeing such two handsome men on their knees for me, I really want a hug now. And then a nap.”

Chuckling, Alex stood, collapsed on the couch next to John, pulled him into a tight bear hug. Kissed his forehead. Lafayette took his time standing, brushed off his clothes. Sat on John’s other side, taking care not to bump his healing injury. Took his hand, laced their fingers together. Laid his head on John’s shoulder, sniffling.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Laf. You’re crying again?” Alex grouched, poking his calf with his socked foot. “He said yes! We all said yes! John’s home, he’s ok! Happy times!”

“That’s why he’s crying, baby girl,” John said through yet another yawn. Ran the risk of falling asleep right there on the couch. 

“This is correct,” Lafayette confirmed, dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “I would grow used to this mon chou. Planning our wedding will be an...extremely...emotional task for me. Many smiles, many tears.”

“Can’t wait,” grumbled Alex, but he was smiling. “Now, about that nap…”

John didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see their bed. It had been made up with fresh, new looking sheets. Crisp white damask cotton, so fine it had a sheen. Lafayette said he was not tired, that he would tuck them in and tend to some things while they napped, wake them when it was dinner time. John nodded, accepted a quick kiss. Curled up against Alex’s chest, Pokey snug between them. 

John slept the best he had in weeks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion

When John’s eyes fluttered open, it was nighttime. The moonlight poured into the room. Lafayette was sitting criss-cross-applesauce at the foot of the bed, talking softly to Alexander, who was still holding John gently. To his mortification, John realized he’d drooled all over Pokey. He blinked a few times, sort of leaned up on his good side. 

“You are awake,” Lafayette noted, beamed at him. “Are you hungry? Alexander and I were just discussing supper.”

“Herc and Eliza and Peggy all wanna see you,” Alex explained, which was unsurprising. John had eschewed all visitors aside from Alex, Laf and Henry, not wanting to put anyone out, or let anyone else see him looking like such a disaster. “They asked if they could come over, or if we wanted to meet them for sushi or something. Nothing crazy, just to see your face. Wanna hear about...ya know...everything.”

“Hercules has already appointed himself our best man,” Lafayette explained. “And I think he wants to discuss bachelor party plans and such.”

Already, John’s head was spinning with the prospect of planning their wedding. But that needed to wait. 

“Tell them tomorrow, or this weekend,” John said softly. “Not tonight.”

“Oh? This can be arranged. No problems. What for dinner then? Are you tired? Hungry?”

“No and no,” John whined, petulant. “I’m horny.”

Alexander burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with it as he held John.

“Stop laughing!” John griped. “I haven’t had sex in forever. And in the hospital, there’s like no privacy, so no jerking off either.” 

“Shit, you’re right,” Alex said, suddenly serious, doing the math in his head. 

“I’d like to see either of you last twenty-eight days without sex or jacking it,” he grumbled. 

“Nope, yeah, you’re right. I’d explode and Laf would just drop dead. Would never happen.”

“So can we please stop talking about it and get busy?” John shifted, pressed his boner into Alex’s thigh. “So nice to wake up and have someone besides the night nurse doing my blood draw witnessing my morning wood.”

“Is it really morning wood at eight-thirty at night?” Alex asked, grabbing onto said wood, giving him a few teasing rubs through his sweatpants. John didn’t respond verbally, just moaned loudly and thrust his hips towards Alex, chasing his hand. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re hard as a rock for me, aren’t ya? Come on, Laf, let’s give this poor boy what he needs.” 

Was already squirming out of his clothes, but Lafayette had yet to make a move to join in.

“Daddy?” John coaxed, made a grabby hand for him. Hadn’t truly slipped into little space, probably wouldn’t but almost always loved to use that pet name. It had been _so long_... “Don’t you want me, Daddy?”

Laf chewed at his lip, shifted anxiously. “Little one, it is not that I do not want you. I always want you. But I am concerned for your safety, would not want to injure you or hinder your healing.” 

“Oh please,” Alex said. “Come on, Laf. Ten out of ten doctors agree. A dicking a day keeps the doctor away. He hasn’t come in _twenty-eight days_...” and even has he spoke, he was gently running his fingernails over John’s now-bare chest, watching with glee as John over reacted to the lightest touch, whimpering and bucking into the air. 

John looked at Laf imploringly. Big, innocent puppy eyes that he knew Lafayette would not be able to resist. “If you’re gentle, avoid my side, I will be fine, I promise. Please, Daddy, please. Need you and Papi both.” 

With him whimpering, begging like that, Lafayette knew continuing to resist was a losing game. And of course he wanted to be part of it, had missed John just as much as he missed them. “And what will my baby be wanting from both of us this evening?” he asked, coming to lay next to John, catching his lips in a soft kiss. 

“Papi first,” John said, his eyes shining. Made puppy eyes at Alex. 

“Yeah?” Alex asked. “As much as I love your ass, I gotta admit this is one impressive boner.” He wrapped his hand around John’s length, granted him a few teasing strokes. “Can I ride you, baby boy? Can you handle that?”

“Uh huh,” John said, nodding eagerly, laying out on the bed, beaming. 

“Please be careful, mon chou,” Lafayette said nervously, watching Alex lube John’s dick with one hand, finger himself open with the other. The ultimate multitasker. “That is all you will do?” he asked incredulously, as Alex had spent less than two minutes prepping himself. 

“Yup,” replied Alex, carefully positioning himself over John’s hips. Finding the perfect angle. “It’d be a total waste _not_ to fuck myself open on this fantastic erection. And you know how much I hate waste.” He lowered himself onto John, very, very slowly. Took his time to work himself down John’s length. They both watched John’s face closely, looking for any signs of pain or distress. Instead, all they saw was lust. 

And impatience.

“Got you, I got you baby boy,” Alex assured, lifting and lowering himself in easy, careful strokes. Normally, would go all out, bounce hard and fast and full, but he needed to be mindful of John’s injury. These measured stroked seems to be doing it for him, Alex swore he felt John get harder deep inside him, his eyes fluttering with pleasure. 

Couldn’t plant his hands on John’s torso as he usually did, had to grip his own thighs for support. Loved the way John was watching him, looking at him like he could get drunk off the sight of Alex moving over him.

“Shit, Papi,” John groaned. Eyes rolled, hands came to dig blunt fingertips into Alex’s skin. “Feels...so...fucking...great,” he intoned in time to Alex’s rhythm. 

“Yeah?” Alex said, tossed his hair, smirked. Ran his eyes down the sight of (one of) his future husband. Hair a curly mess from his his nap. Eyes bright with want, heavy hooded. Freckles on flushed cheeks. Biting his own lips. Nipples hard, torso glinting with the first hint of sweat. Alexander’s eyes fell on the healing scar on his upper abdomen. A round hole, pink and healing, edged with the few staples left in him. It was jagged and mean and bruised and ugly and beautiful and painful all at once. 

“What?” John said, suddenly self-conscious. Alex had stopped moving, and John caught him staring at the wound. He moved, as if to cover it, with his hands, the sheet, but Alex caught him by the wrist to stop him.

“Don’t hide,” Alex said. 

“Ugly,” John said in a small voice. 

“Perfect,” Alex countered, and from where he laid next to him, Lafayette nodded in agreement. “You...you took that for me… My hero,” Alex sighed, resumed riding John. 

“Nng,” John replied, his balls tightening. Alex caught it, teased him.

“Oh you like that?” Up and down, not too fast. “Like when I call you my hero? Like watching me ride my hero’s cock?”

As best as he could, in the tight space he had from where he was pinned on the bed, John tried to meet his thrusts, fucked up into him. 

“Think I’m gonna come on this hero’s dick, gonna fucking blow my load. Can I do that, baby?”

“P-please,” John shuddered. “Mm--I’m close, Papi!”

Hearing that small declaration, that perfect voice sent Alex right over the edge. He came in three short bursts, cum practically shooting out of him, landing on John’s stomach. As he clenched down on John, he could see the look on his face, saw he was just as close as he claimed. 

“Gonna come for me? Come for Papi?” He moved up and down a few more times, squeezed around John. “My hero gonna fill this ass?” 

John threw his head back into the pillow, arched up as far as he could, practically screaming as he came. His balls emptied so fast his head spun. He could hear Lafayette making a sound of appreciation at the view. 

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” he cursed as Alex came down, collapsed onto the pillow next to him. Planted a kiss on his waiting mouth. 

“Such filthy language, mon cher,” Laf commented, stretching to lay next to John. He had his own cock in hand, was giving himself a few swift jerks. “That was exceptional.”

John looked up at Laf with a dopey grin, was slightly glazed. He was due his painkillers dosage, and the edge of pain was creeping up on him. 

There were more important matters at hand. 

“I want that,” John simpered, reached for Laf. “Gimme.”

Lafayette eyed him. “Little one, I am not sure that is such--”

But John flipped onto his good side so no weight was on his injured side, pressed his ass back to Laf. Almost by instinct, Lafayette’s hand went to him, cupped his ass cheek. “Fuck me,” he whimpered, humping his hips back. “Please, please Daddy, I’m asking nicely…”

“C’mon, _Daddy_ ,” Alex cajoled, shoved the bottle of lube into Laf’s hand. “Give this boy what he wants. He’s _hard_ again, that like, never happens.” He grinned at Laf over John’s shoulder, eyes sparkling. “If you won’t do it, at least prep him so I can.”

But Lafayette was going to go slow; laid a kind kiss on John’s bicep as he slipped a single finger into him. Took his time, working up to three fingers with a gentle slowness that had John practically gnawing the pillowcase, he was so worked up. 

“Do not beg me, little one,” Lafayette soothed, nuzzled the crook of John’s neck. “I have you. I need to go slow.”

As Lafayette entered him, John saw stars. Ever mindful of his injury, Lafayette fucked him with a sweet, slow softness that made his heartache, his dick drip precum. 

Lafayette did his best to be gentle, stay slow and careful. The feeling of John’s soft body engulfing him was not the only thing pulling at his heart. Of course, his fiance felt incredible, felt warm and tight and perfect around him. Always did.

But what struck Lafayette in that moment, as time got away and the world narrowed down to the just the heat of John’s body, his succulent little sounds, and Alexander’s watchful gaze from across the bed, was just how close he had come to losing all of this. The few seconds during which a gunman opened fired almost stole his two most precious pieces of his life. 

He had to pause his thrusts, the sob caught in his throat. 

“Oh, honey,” John sighed, curled his fingers over Laf’s hand where it rested lightly on his hip. “Do we need to stop?” 

“Non,” Laf sniffled. Returned to thrusting, his pattern even slower. “I have no...no words. To really say this.” He hoped that with each stroke, with each careful movement he could make John feel it, to his very bones. That feeling of wholeness, completeness. That feeling Lafayette himself only every felt when it was the three of them, connected. Together. 

By the time he came, John not far behind him, all three of them were crying. They didn’t need to speak out loud why, it was obvious in the way Alex laced all three of their hands together, how they rested their heads on the same pillow, tendrils of dark hair spilling onto one another. The light from the hall spilled into the room, caught the shine of their engagement rings. John twisted his wrist back and forth, watched the diamond on his hand sparkle through his tears. 

“Promise, Jack,” Alex said. Kissed his knuckles. “Please don’t scare us like that again.” His face glazed with tears, unable to speak, Lafayette nodded vehemently. Squeezed both of their hands. 

“I won’t,” John said. Knew that promising such a thing was useless, that no one ever knew what could or what couldn’t happen any given day. 

What he could promise was this. Every moment he still had breath, that we was walking this earth, he’d love Alexander and Lafayette with all his heart. It was as easy as breathing, loving them, continuing to love them. After all, they belonged to each other, and to him, and he to them. 

Traced his thumb over the word on his ring. 

_Ours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone!
> 
> Hope to be back very soon with the next fic in this series! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Questions, comments, complaints and concerns are welcome here or on my tumblr @likearootlesstree
> 
> I LOVE YOU GUYS  
> -Kacie


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